


Cat Person, Reformed

by ProfessorDrarry



Series: Drarry One Shot [10]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Muggle, Dogs, Draco is a cat person, M/M, Minor Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson, Mutual Pining, Past Relationship(s), except he owns a dog, silly drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:22:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22351768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProfessorDrarry/pseuds/ProfessorDrarry
Summary: Draco is a cat person. Until he is adopted by a dog. A dog that likes no one except him.Well. Him, and apparently, Harry Potter.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Drarry One Shot [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1227995
Comments: 7
Kudos: 159





	Cat Person, Reformed

## PART ONE

Summer meant a packed park, but even being prepared for it, Draco sighed as he approached the gate and tightened his grip on the leash. 

Draco felt the same way about busy parks as he did about the perpetual sun; he disliked it on principle. He was _supposed_ to like the sun. Supposed to grin at strangers and say inane things like ‘hot enough for ya?’. Being a Brit who liked the sun was too predictable.

He refused to be predictable. 

Though, he supposed, it _was_ nice to have dry feet. And to be able to do his hair before he left the flat. And to not have to force the dog into the waterproof booties he hated.

Despite his resolute scowl at the blooming trees, he felt the day and the warmth start to cheer him up. Facilitated largely by his latte and the blasting of the Grouplove album he’d had on repeat all week, even the small children running free of their people weren’t able to pierce through his bubble of happiness. 

That was, of course, until the dog decided to break free of his bonds; he did this at least once a week, but Draco was still literally never ready for it. The tug was instant, and fierce, unprompted, and accompanied only by a tiny growl and a yip. He wasn’t being willful, Draco just hadn’t been paying enough attention. The Shiba usually just wanted to see something. Generally, it was a snake. Or a hedgehog.

Draco followed along behind him as quickly as he could without running. Running after one’s dog was undignified. Plus, he always caught up before he needed to worry. The sorry sod was extremely picky about his human companionship, meaning he also wasn’t a danger to anyone. If anyone ever approached him, he’d just give them a firm side-eye and head back to the safety of cowering behind Draco’s ankles.

There had been a time when he had been the same, wary of strangers. Or, really anyone who wasn’t his cats. Larry with his Mohawk. Meg with her bizarre meow. Triage, named after this near-death collusion into Draco’s life. These three had made a cohesive team against the world, and they occasionally tolerated Draco. Since he himself had always felt barely tolerable, their relationship worked out very well. 

He would never stop cursing Pansy for dragging him along to that shelter fundraiser. She’d just been trying to scope out eligible bachelors, and instead, he’d been the one to walk out with an anxious, traumatized Shiba Inu with a giant nick in one ear and separation anxiety. 

He’d loved the damn dog the second he’d seen him, cowering in the back of his cage and refusing to be coaxed out. 

“Excuse me,” he’d asked the chirpy attendant touring them around. “Is that one okay?" 

"He’s just… very timid." 

Pansy had eyed Draco, looked at the dog, and proceeded to bully the lady into opening the door for them. An hour later, he’d marched out of the shelter holding a leash and a bag of kibble. 

He had been uninformed on how significantly dogs would change your life. Suddenly, Draco had to go to training classes and be home at reasonable hours, take walks in places he’d missed for almost a decade of hiding out and hermitting. London took on a new life when he was forced to be in it. It definitely wasn’t all bad. 

Unfortunately, the wonderful sensation of his dog-hating people in general disappeared entirely when the dog broke free. Draco was always a little terrified of the day he just wouldn’t come back.

As he rounded the corner into one of the dog’s favourite rhododendrons, he stopped short at the sight of a brown-haired man crouched down and whispering to his very anti-social, timid dog, whose tail was wagging and whose leash was under the man’s control. 

"So sorry,” Draco called out. “He’s mine. Got away from me." 

"It’s not a problem,” the man replied, standing up and holding up the leash. “We had a lovely chat. He’s very friendly.”

Before he could stop himself, Draco snickered. The man looked at him questioningly as he approached. “Not usually,” Draco explained. “He’s not generally a fan of people…" 

He trailed off as he got close enough to take the leash. The man’s smile turned to a smirk as he glanced away and as Draco took the lead. 

"Well, we got on just fine." 

Draco glanced down at the dog and back at the man. Something about him was just…off. 

"Sorry,” Draco said, realising he was staring a little oddly. “You, uh…you look a little familiar." 

"Probably because I am, Malfoy. We went to school together." 

"We…" 

"Potter,” he declared. “Not surprised you don’t recognise me. We weren’t even really acquaintances. In fact, I think we may have been enemies, even if you didn’t know it.”

“Well, it was a big school—" 

"No, it wasn’t,” Potter joked. “You once called my friends and me 'blundering slime moulds’, and I heard you. So, not that big." 

Draco felt himself blush and refused to respond. 

"Relax,” Potter laughed. “I’m only teasing. What’s this guys name?" 

Draco sighed. He hated this part. "Barkley,” he mumbled. 

Potter laughed. People always laughed. It was a ridiculous name, but Draco had felt uncomfortable changing it. Barkley had a whole history, a whole story that made him who he was — as anxious and timid as that dog was, who was Draco to take his identity from him? He knew what that was like. 

“Thanks for grabbing him,” Draco said sharply. “I appreciate it. Let’s go, boy." 

He tried to walk away, but Barkley had other plans. He sat down and stared up at Draco expectantly. 

"Shiba Inus,” Potter laughed. “So stubborn." 

"Especially this one,” Draco said fondly. 

Potter crouched down and patted the dog’s head again. He whispered something that Draco couldn’t hear, stood back up and gave a small wave as he sauntered off. Without another pause, Barkley stood up and started walking home. 

“Well,” Draco groaned. “That was bizarre."

* * *

## PART TWO

Harry bounded into the small flat with the smell of fish and chips assaulting him immediately. Apparently, Seamus had decided on eating at four in the afternoon again. He’d be worried about his flatmate’s eating habits if he thought he had any grounds. 

“You can just put your judgement away, Potter!” Dean called from the tiny living room. “We brought you some too.” 

Grinning to himself, he threw off his shoes and leapt into the last remaining chair in the room, ducking as Seamus threw a plastic fork on his head, and pushed the remaining box of fish at him with his foot across the table. 

“Someone’s in a good mood,” Dean noted.

“Don’t know how you two can be cuddled up like that in this heat.” 

Seamus laughed. “True love.”

“And the complete lack of other space available,” Dean added with a poke to Seamus’ sides.

“You’ll never guess who I ran into today,” Harry continued. “Remember Malfoy?”

Seamus and Dean managed to exchange a not so subtle glance that even he managed to see. 

“Yeah,” Dean replied, eyeing Harry carefully. “We remember him.” 

“He’s aged. Has a dog.”

Seamus groaned. “Oh, here we go.”

“What?” Harry demanded. 

“Right back to sixth year, hey?” Dean laughed. “You know, as someone who was _also_ secretly obsessed with someone in school, I can promise you it’s easier to just deal with it.”

“What are you two on about. I was not obsessed with Malfoy. He was a prick!”

“A _gorgeous_ prick,” Seamus corrected. “Who also had that whole ‘misunderstood broody heir’ thing going for him. And rich.”

“Rich was like eighty per cent of the problem,” Dean supplied. “So, tell us about the dog you saw if you must, but don’t even start pretending this isn’t about Malfoy.”

Harry grumbled and shoved a chip in his mouth. Both Seamus and Dean stared at him expectantly.

“What?”

“You didn’t tell us about the dog,” Dean reminded him. Harry laughed. 

“Hm. He was beautiful. Shiba Inu. Sweet, if a bit anxious. Got off his leash, I grabbed him. Named Barkley.”

“So you _rescued_ Malfoy’s dog for him? Did he swoon?” Seamus teased.

“Shut it.”

“Did you at least get his number?” Dean asked.

Harry sighed and looked at the ceiling, resting his sweaty hair on the back of the chair. “No, and I’ve been beating myself up about it for the last forty minutes.”

“I’ve got ten pounds on him waiting in the park for the next week hoping to run into him.”

Dean chuckled. “I’ll take that bet. He won’t last a week.”

“I really hate both of you, you know.”

> * * *

Barkley crowded up onto the sofa, shoving Larry out of the way just enough that he was right beside Draco.

“Go away,” Draco whined. “I’m mad at you. Potter. Potter. Out of all the people in the park today, you went and found Harry Potter. Honestly. What is the point of you?”

Barkley’s head turned in that way that made Draco’s insides melt and he sighed. “Fine. I didn’t mean it. But listen, you’re going to have to tell me what he said to you.”

Barkley simply dropped his head into Draco’s lap.

“He’s just as fit. Isn’t that annoying? The rest of us, we’ve aged and gotten stress lines, put on weight ‘round the middle, and he, the bloody git, looks just like he did at 16. It’s fucking irritating.”

Barkley whined and Draco laughed. It sounded so much like agreement.

“Well, there’s nothing to be done for it, is there?” Draco pulled his mobile out of his pocket and dialled Pansy before he could reconsider. 

“What do you mean I could just move on and ignore him?” he said as the phone rang.

“Don’t be daft, Barkley. You don’t like anyone and you practically drooled into Potter’s hand. Which, I mean, I get it, but still. I can hardly let that sort of nonsense just go unpunished. Loving on my dog — Hey Pans. It’s me. Call me back. I need you to find Harry Potter’s number for me. And yes, you can tease me about that later, but I promise it’s a good story. Barkley owes me an apology.” 

* * *

## PART THREE 

Draco didn’t hear from Pansy for three days. Other people may have worried about this, agonised, even. Not Draco. Draco Malfoy was not one to agonise over a boy, nor was he worried about his friend. If she wasn’t calling him, it was just because she was busy. Or finding his number. Or…something. 

So what if he didn’t manage more than a few hours of sleep both those nights? Work was stressful, he had a lot on his mind. And yes, fine, he was avoiding the park. But that didn’t mean anything, necessarily. The park was busy and noisy and Draco just found it easier to walk Barkley down by the high street or through the gardens. 

By the middle of the next week, Draco started leaving his mobile at home; not for any particular reason, and certainly not because Joseph had finally told him he was going to need to keep it in a desk drawer because he was falling behind in the filing. This meant that when he went home for lunch and found the blasted thing flashing, Draco’s heart didn’t have time to drop to the floor and his stomach didn’t flop unpleasantly. Not at all. 

“Draco,” Pansy’s voice whined at him. “How dare you send me on a wild goose chase to find your former obsessive crush and then not even answer my call. So bloody inconsiderate. Anyway, I, er, ran into that Granger girl at her office. Shut up. I didn’t go there on purpose, I had called Luna first. It’s just that….wait, no, never mind. You don’t get to know why. She wouldn’t give me his number, but she did inform me — after some convincing, mind, you owe me big time — that he walks that park every day on his way home from the school where he teaches. Around four. If you make me regret this or become the lovesick fuck-wad you were in school, I swear to god I will just knock you out and move you to the coast to detox. Don’t call me again tonight. I have..erm, plans.”

“Bloody hypocrite,” Draco said, looking down at Barkley who was yipping at his feet and spinning in a circle to go out. “Tells me not to get obsessed, but you fucking _know_ she’s going out with Granger tonight, isn’t she? Alright, alright. Calm down. You’re coming back to the office with me this afternoon. I have a bespectacled git to intercept on the way home.”

* * *

The rain truly started in earnest at a quarter to four. Harry was extremely tempted to take a taxi home instead of walking, but there was a niggling insistence in his mind that he just… _check_. So, he pulled his hood tight, threw an umbrella up as he headed out the door, and trudged his way to the park. 

He was rewarded for his perseverance.

“Malfoy!” He called as he approached the sopping bench where Malfoy and Barkley sat beneath a large, purple umbrella.

His trousers must be soaked, cold and extremely uncomfortable. Harry gave himself a stern talking to take his mind off of Malfoy’s trousers and held up a pathetic half wave that he instantly regretted. He really was such a git. Trying to cover his embarrassment, he moved toward the bench slightly faster. 

“Why on earth are you out here? Britain has remembered to be in Britain. Had you not noticed?”

Malfoy stood slowly, prompting the dog to follow him begrudgingly. “Best part of owning a dog in England,” he said, his tone gentle and teasing. “Look how quiet the park is!”

Harry laughed a surprised laugh, and Malfoy smiled widely. 

“Come on,” he declared. “I know a place nearby that has a very lax policy on dogs inside. We can get out of the rain.”

“We can?” Harry asked. He knew, and he knew that Malfoy knew, that he’d only walked today in the hopes of running into this man again. But still, he was surprised.

Malfoy turned back, an awkward half-turn that screamed of his hesitation and uncertainty. “Yes,” he said finally, surveying Harry for a moment longer. “We can.“

They walked in companionable silence, Barkley happily trotting between the two umbrellas, getting interminably wet. Harry couldn’t be certain, but it appeared that the sturdy dog was grinning up at them, looking back and forth between them and then pulling them along faster. They marched up to a small cafe with an awning that eerily matched Malfoy’s umbrella. 

“Luna?” he called as he opened the door.

“Draco! Oh, and Barkley! What a wonderful afternoon.” 

A silver-haired woman in a long kaftan that had the entire galaxy printed across its wings embraced Malfoy warmly. 

“Luna!” Harry said, shocked to see his old school chum here in London. He’d thought she was off travelling the world. 

“Harry!” she exclaimed. “Goodness.”

“Luna, can we sit inside with him?” Malfoy asked.

“Of course! I’ll bring you some scones and tea and then get out of your way. You both look like you might be sick. Are you feeling quite alright?”

The men looked at each other, and then away just as quickly. Luna was right. They looked pale and embarrassed, terrified for reasons they both knew and did not understand. They sat in a corner booth, Barkley settling down on Harry’s side without being prompted. Malfoy looked quite put-out, but nonetheless offered him a towel he pulled from a wide pocket in his coat. Harry dried off the dog, scratching him behind the ears as they waited for tea. 

For a few moments, after Luna disappeared back into the back, they sat awkwardly. Finally, Harry cleared his throat and put his hands on the warm cup in front of him. 

“Malfoy…Draco,” he started.

“What?”

“Why are we here?”

“We’re having tea.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Well…why are we here, Harry?” 

Harry closed his eyes for a second and charged bravely into the conversation he’d wanted to have when he’d grabbed Malfoy’s dog that day in the park. 

“I have three questions for you.” 

At the slight, dignified nod that Draco gave him, telling him to go on, Harry wanted to scream. Instead, he made himself stay calm. He inhaled deeply. Closed his eyes a moment. 

“Number one,” he said. “Why did you ask Pansy for my number? Yes. Hermione told me. Also, she’s very interested in why Pansy then showed up at her Ministry event last night, but I feel like that’s a conversation for another day.”

Draco cocked his head at him. He did not respond. 

“Number two, how on earth does a person who is so clearly a cat person end up with such a glorious dog?”

“I mean, he sort of found me, to be honest, and—” 

“And third,” Harry interrupted, “is there a reason you pretended not to know me in the park?”

“Harry—”

“Are we going to keep pretending that the kiss from the first year of uni didn’t happen? Because we both know it did. And we both know your friends know about it.”

“That was technically _four_ questions,” Draco replied quietly. 

“Draco,” Harry whined.

“I know, I know. That’s why we’re here, Harry. That’s your first answer. I was…I was such a mess in first year, Potter. I barely remembered that day until I saw you in the park. Until Barkley…”

“Go on,” Harry muttered, a hard tone in his voice that he hadn’t intended. 

“I was serious, Harry. He doesn’t like people. He stays away from…literally everyone. But he didn’t stay away from you.”

“Unlike his owner.”

“Okay, so we’re doing this?” Draco interjected gruffly. “Do you really want to go there? Really? Want to discuss how much your friends fought against you and I doing anything more than that kiss? How much they hated me in school? Pansy and…and Theo.”

“Theo is not a part of this.”

“Still. Why did you come to the park today? You had to know I was coming.” 

“Yeah. I did.”

The sat and stared at each other across the table. Neither moved a muscle, neither dared enter the space between them, the years of unspoken history, the attraction they’d ignored, and then dealt with, and then ignored again. Finally, Barkley—likely confused by the silence and the disappearance of his scratches—sat up with his paws on the table and gave a loud and irritated bark. Both Harry and Draco looked at him in surprise. And then, both laughed. 

“So. Want to go on a date, then?” Harry announced, glancing back at Draco. “Your dog seems to think it’s a good idea.”

Draco took a sharp breath. “Want to just call this date one? I mean, we’ve already gotten the whole inappropriate public snogging out of the way.”

“Not forever, I hope,” Harry said brazenly. He laughed when Draco blushed. “Oh goodness, Barkley. This is going to be fun, isn’t it?”

“Forgot how much I hate you,” Draco whispered fondly, his cheeks getting a little brighter as he watched Harry smoosh his face into the face of his very picky dog. 

“You’ll learn to love me,” Harry sang in a ridiculous voice. “Won’t he Barkley.” 

“I might, but the cats are going to eat you alive.”


End file.
